


Late fees

by redtoes



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: F/M, Friends With Benefits, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sex, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-27
Updated: 2013-05-27
Packaged: 2017-12-13 03:05:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,162
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/819237
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redtoes/pseuds/redtoes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Oliver and Felicity discuss librarian fantasies, late fees and the proper way to bend someone over a desk. PWP. *fans self*</p>
            </blockquote>





	Late fees

**Author's Note:**

> I have no idea where this came from. It's not my usual form of story telling. I guess all the UST in my Arrow WIP Hands kinda spilled over into PWP.
> 
> I own nothing. At all. But I happily imagine all sorts of things.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” He asks. It’s not the first time he’s asked her, but her answer hasn’t changed. What began as a drunken hook-up has become a semi-regular friends with benefits arrangement, but he’s still nervous that this will change their friendship, that she’ll want more than he can give her and the whole house of cards will come tumbling down.

“If you keep asking me Oliver,” Felicity says, sounding very amused, “one of these days I’m going to say ‘no’.”

“I don’t understand you,” he says, “I don’t understand this.”

“What’s to understand? This is two friends, single, unattached and not looking, making time with each other.”

“Making time?” he raises an eyebrow.

“Making whoopie?” She grins and he feels his mouth tilt upwards in response. “Making the beast with two backs?”

“Two backs,” he says dryly, “really?”

“Are you coming in?” She says, “You’ve been standing in the doorway for ten minutes. If I didn’t know better I’d think you were nervous. Scared even.”

“You don’t scare me,” he grins, stepping inside and closing the door behind him.

“You’ve never seen me yell at the boys in accounts who downloaded illegal copies of Call of Duty on their work PCs.”

“That’s true,” he says, “I’m sure you were very stern. Librarian-like. But not scary.”

“Is that how you imagine me?” She says, taking the bottle of wine from his hand and placing it on the kitchen counter. “As a librarian?”

“Those glasses of yours,” he says, “those tight little skirts.”

“Is this you telling me you have a librarian fantasy? ‘Cause I can do that, you know? I could put my hair up with a pencil, get out my tortoise-shell glasses, pencil skirt and blouse?”

He grins because the image is not unappealing.

“How does this fantasy go?” He asks, “are you going to tell me I have to work off fines for late books or am I bending you over a table in the quiet section of the stacks?”

“Mmm,” she says, biting her lip, “can’t it be both?”

“Okay,” he says, stepping in close and bringing up both his hands to her circle her waist. “How does this begin? You’re the librarian and I’m very late with my books.”

“Well obviously,” she says, wrapping her arms around his neck, “you’re going to try and get out of paying the fine by using that Oliver Queen charm I’ve heard so much about.”

“Am I?” He dips his head down to kiss her neck, enjoying the soft sighs she makes. “That’s interesting, but I’m not sure you’re all that impressed with my charm.”

“Of course not,” she says, “I get handsome billionaires in my library all the time, trying to weasel out of a fifty cent fine on an overdue romance novel.”

“Romance novel?” He laughs, pressing his lips to her collarbone.

“Well maybe I think it’s a romance novel at first,” she says, “but then I look closer and it’s a blue novel.”

“A blue novel?”

“A dirty book.”

“Well, yes,” he admits, dropping one hand to grope her ass, “that sounds more like me.”

“So the question is,” she says, nipping at his ear lobe between words, “am I kind of disciplinary librarian who will send you to your knees, or am I the blushing nervous kind who’s just looking for a big strong man to order me around?”

“This is getting interesting,” he says, “how about you decide?”

“I don’t feel like doing all the work,” she says, “so I’m going to be all nervous and flustered. The kind of girl who’s always been wanting to be ravished. So ravish me.”

Oliver looks at her and the mock-innocent expression she wears as she bites her lip and stares at him over her glasses.

“Well Ms Smoak,” he says, “I can think of a few ways I can make up those library fines for you.”

“Really?” She says, putting a quiver in her voice. “How?”

“How about I make you scream with pleasure?”

“Really?” Felicity says sardonically, “’scream with pleasure’?”

“Don’t criticise,” he says, “I can remember more than one time I’ve had you screaming my name.”

“Exasperation and annoyance don’t count Oliver.” She says, then goes back into character, “Oh, Mr Queen, what if someone hears us?”

“Well Ms Smoak, he says, lifting her up so she can wrap her legs around his waist, “You’re going to have to keep quiet.”

Oliver kisses her and she returns the kiss with gusto, grinding against him. Wrapping her legs around him has already pushed the miniskirt she’s wearing up around her hips and his bare hands on her thighs skirt along the edge of the panties she’s wearing.

“Here?” He asks, referring to their current location in her apartment’s hallway, “or the bedroom?”

“Well,” she whispers, “if you’re going to bend me over something, I think it should be my desk.”

“Aren’t you the naughty one Ms Smoak?” He shifts one hand to rub over the crotch of her panties. “Sopping wet and I’ve barely touched you.”

“I’ve been waiting for you,” she groans into his ear. Completely out of character but he’s not complaining.

He slips one finger inside her, then another. She gasps, leaning her head back against the wall and giving him access to her neck. He kisses her pulse points, feeling her heart beat against his lips. He brings his thumb up to rub at her clit and she groans.

“That’s a bit too loud for the library,” he murmurs into her ear. She groans all the louder.

“Ms Smoak,” he warns, “if you keep making all this noise I’ll have to stop.”

Felicity tips her head down to look him in the eye. “Don’t you dare.”

Keeping eye contact with her he curls his fingers, pressing them against the inside of her, searching for that one spot -

“Ahhhhhh,” she moans. Loudly.

“Well, well, well,” he says, trying to keep the delight he feels at being able to elicit such moans from her so easily out of his voice. “If you can’t keep quiet I’m going to need to find a way to keep you quiet.”

“Is this,” she whispers, “where you tell me you’ve got another use for my mouth?”

“Why Ms Smoak,” he says, capturing said mouth for another kiss. “You’re not quite as innocent as you pretend, are you?”

She grins wickedly and slips out of his arms, dropping to her knees in front of him.

“Maybe I read it in a book,” she says, her hands undoing his belt.

“You can’t believe everything you read in books,” he says, bringing one hand up to cup her cheek.

“Tell me what to do then,” she unbuttons the fly of his jeans and reaches inside, her eyes never leaving his. She licks her lips, and he shifts his hand around her face so it’s resting on the back of her head.

“Open your mouth,” he orders, and she does so.

She drops her hands down to her lap so he has to reach inside his boxer shorts to free his erect cock, but then Felicity is there, wrapping her lips around the shaft of him and maintaining eye contact as she takes him into her mouth.

He keeps his hand on her head, using her ponytail as a convenient handle but he lets her set the pace, her head bobbing up and down at his crotch.

Now it’s his turn to bite his lip, his turn to try and clamp down on the gasps and moans. Her mouth is hot and wet and wrapped around him but he doesn’t want to end the evening in her hallway, even if the memory of her on her knees sucking him off while still wearing her glasses is one that keep him warm on many lonely nights to come.

Abruptly he remembers the game they’re playing and his hand tightens in her hair. He keeps his eyes locked on hers as he pushes softly and she lets him, letting him guide her head down as far as she can go, so the end of his cock pushes against the back of her throat. He holds her there for a second, enjoying the sensations as she runs her tongue along the bottom of him, her mouth stretched wide, her nose pressed almost to his abdomen.

Then he lets her go.

Felicity pulls back, wiping at her mouth, but grinning all the same.

“Good girl,” he says and she cocks an eyebrow at him. He doesn’t quite know what to say, so he goes for actions instead of words, picking her up and tossing her over his shoulder. She squeals, delighted, and mock struggles.

“Oliver! What are you doing?”

“You said something earlier,” he replies as he moves through her tiny apartment, “about being bent over your desk.”

Felicity laughs.

“Put me down,” she says, but one of her hands slips down to grope at his ass.

It’s a matter of seconds to open the door to the home office she keeps in a spare bedroom. Thankfully the desk is mostly empty - the macbook is usually found on her coffee table rather than here, so there’s no expensive equipment to damage. He takes advantage of the fact there’s only a few pens and some paper and sweeps his hand across the top of the desk, knocking the undamageable stationary to the floor.

“Very dramatic,” she comments.

“Thank you.”

He shifts her from his shoulder to the desk, seating her on the edge of it. Then, in the interest of stretching out this game a little longer, drops to his knees in front of her and uses his hands to push her legs apart.

“Oliver?”

“Shh,” he chastises her then leans in to press a kiss to her inner thigh. “My turn.”

“I’m not sure,” she says, her breathing coming harder and faster as he licks his way up the inside of her leg, “how this is helping you pay off those library fines, but I’m not complaining.”

“Quiet Felicity,” he reminds her, “someone might hear us.” Then he moves his mouth to the crotch of her panties, tongueing at her clit through the damp material. She shivers and gasps above him and he has to use his hands to hold her thighs still and steady on the desk. They’re still both mostly dressed - he’s still wearing his jacket - but somehow that makes this all the hotter.

He pushes her skirt up around her waist so he can see her, watch her bite down on the edge of her hand, trying to muffle her moans. He likes driving her past the point of control so he moves one hand from her thigh to push the material of her underwear out of the way and licks at her sex, running his tongue over the most intimate parts of her. He rubs his nose on her clit as his dips his tongue inside her, tasting her arousal, then he pulls back long enough to slip two fingers inside her, returning his mouth to her clit.

Her orgasm, when it comes, hits her all at once, and suddenly she’s throwing her head back, clamping down on his fingers, her entire body reacting to his mouth. He helps her ride through it, slowing down his movements until she’s left panting above him and needing both hands to hold herself up on the desk.

His cock throbs at the sight of her, and he leans back, taking in the view. Prim and proper Felicity, undone by his mouth.

She opens her eyes to see him and grins.

“You look so smug,” she teases and he responds with an eyebrow quirk. He may have spent five years on an island away from the comforts of modern society but there’s some things you never forget.

“Can I assume that those late fees will be waived?”

“Waived,” she says, gesturing weakly with one hand. “Very very waived.”

He grins and pushes himself to his feet.

“Then,” he says, taking the chance to remove his jacket, “perhaps you’d be so kind as to turn around?”

She gives him a confused look, so he steps in, lifts her up and turns her over, bending her, as he promised, over the desk.

“Oh,” she says in realisation, “right. The desk.”

“The desk,” he agrees, pushing her so she’s leaning forward on her hands. He reaches up under her skirt and pulls her panties off, dropping them on the floor. Her sex is flushed red, wet with her arousal and his efforts. He runs his hands over her ass, enjoying the shiver of anticipation that passes through her.

“Condom?” He asks, softly.

“Not necessary,” she whispers, “I’m on the pill.”

“That’s new,” he says, teasing at her skin.

“I wanted to surprise you.” She looks back over her shoulder to smile at him.

“Consider me surprised,” he says, “and appreciative.”

He lines himself up then sinks inside her, sheathing himself fully in her wet heat.

Felicity moans, dropping her head down, and he wraps one arm around her chest, pulling her back against him, leaving the other braced against the desk.

“Oliver,” she gasps, and he feels pleasure at the way she says his name throughout his body. This isn’t love but it’s loving, and for all the faults in the rest of their lives, they have these moments with each other and it’s almost enough. He goes out of his way not to think about Laurel when he’s here - she’s off with Tommy and he wishes her all the happiness in the world, but the thought comes into his head anyway, a different girl, with different coloured hair, though they never played games the way he does with Felicity. They made love; he and Felicity make laughter.

He slips the hand he has on her chest inside her shirt to play with her nipples, and he moves his hand on the desk up to hold on her hip. She’s panting hard, still glowing from her earlier orgasm and he’s not sure how long he can last.

“Harder,” she whispers, and he obliges, thrusting up into her as hard and as fast as he can.

He pinches her nipple inside her shirt and she gasps. His hand on her hip is holding her hard enough to leave bruises and while he’d never hurt her he suddenly likes the idea of marking her as his, claiming her for himself.

He drops his mouth down to suck hard on the soft skin of her neck, leaving a hickey she’ll have to cover with a scarf tomorrow. He thinks of how she’ll look, trying to hide the evidence from Diggle and her officemates and the thought makes him ever harder inside her.

“I’m close,” she gasps between thrusts, “Oliver, please-”

So he moves his hand from her hip, sliding it around the front of her body to rub at her clit. He leans her forward, pressing her down against the desk with one hand while he teases her with the other.

“This is what you wanted, right?” He says, trying to keep his voice level. She might be on the edge of an orgasm but he’s not far behind. “Being bent over your desk?”

Her hands are flat on the desktop, her body pressed down, one of his hands trapped beneath her, the other on her lower back, holding her in place he thrusts into her. He sees her mouth fall open and he pinches her clit hard and she’s coming, screaming out nonsense syllables as he fucks her into her second orgasm of the night.

He fucks through it, feeling her internal muscles clamp down hard on his cock. He’s almost there for his own pleasure so he pulls his hand out from under her, moving it so he’s holding her hips with both hands, thrusting into her, spread out across the desk.

She turns her head, almost lazily, to smile at him and somehow that’s it, he’s coming, feeling his pleasure rush up out of him, spilling himself inside her. He grunts, letting his movements slow down to nothing, but not pulling back, staying inside her as he feels his cock soften.

His breathing slows, hers does too, and they stay there, enjoying the glow of it.

He looks up to see a mischievous look on her face, and he can’t help but grin.

“Librarian fantasy, eh?” She says, looking thoroughly fucked and very happy about it. He can see the hickey he left on her throat, a dark red mark against her pale skin.

It’s not awkward but it feels like it should be. This isn’t a relationship, it’s friends with benefits and they’re still both mostly dressed; his shoes are still on. The only pieces of clothing he removed from her was her panties, he didn’t even undo the buttons on his shirt or remove her skirt.

“It’s those glasses of yours,” he says, finally pulling himself out of her and lifting his jeans back up over his hips but not bothering to fasten them.

She rolls over, accepting a hand from him to help her up, then smoothes her skirt back into place.

“I will admit,” she says, “this wasn’t how I imagined the evening going.”

“No?” he asks, running a hand through his short hair, remembering for a second how long it once was. “What did you have in mind?”

“A bed for one thing,” she grins.

“The evening’s young,” he points out, “plenty of time for that bed.”

“I’ll hold you to that,” she says. “Or maybe you can hold me?”

He grins, dropping his head down to press a quick kiss to her lips.

“Come on,” she says, taking his hand and pulling him out of the room, towards the kitchen. “Didn’t you bring wine? I could go for a glass before round two.”

He lets her lead him, following along behind her. She’s a ray of sunshine, as bright as her hair, in a life that’s dark and full of terrors. He doesn’t know what he can do to save the city, what tomorrow or the day after will bring in his crusade for justice and revenge. But he knows she’ll be there, helping him by day and night in her own special way.

He’s pretty sure this isn’t a friends with benefits arrangement, not really, but he’s certainly looking forward to seeing how it develops.

He watches as she pours two glasses of red wine - the same brand as he once bribed her with so long ago to help him out on his ‘scavenger hunt.’

“I love red wine,” she says.

“I know.”

“So,” she grins between sips, “ready for round two?”

“What is it this time?” He teases, “a naughty school girl? Or a misbehaving boss? Shower sex?”

“How about Starling City’s resident superhero getting thanked properly for once?” She says, and he grins.

“Sounds fun.”

It is.


End file.
